Don't Drink the Water
by Lilo Stitch
Summary: 8 years into the future we catch up with Spike in NYC
1. Default Chapter

Author's Notes: Ok…hi, my name is Lilo Stitch and I used to post here and I took my stuff down for very mundane and undramatic reasons but people seemed to want it back up. Here it is.  
  
  
  
It was written before the end of season 5 and it takes place 8 years into the future. Enjoy.  
  
  
  
  
  
Don't Drink The Water  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Do you take requests?"  
  
"What do I look like? Carson Daly?" the DJ spat back.  
  
Spike grinned and leaned towards the kid menacingly. "I can make you look like Jimmy fucking Hoffa if you don't watch it."  
  
The acne-ridden kid stepped back. Somehow he had a feeling this guy might make good on his threat and he wasn't in the mood to call his bluff. "What do you want to hear?"  
  
"Bangles. Hazy Shade of Winter."  
  
The DJ made a small sputtering sound. The appearance of this particular patron was a stark contrast to the music he had just requested. "What?"  
  
"I didn't ask for your opinion on it, git. Do you have it?"  
  
"I might," he dug through his stack of old LPs. "Yeah," he said, almost amazed. "Actually I do."  
  
The two just stood there watching each other for a moment. "Well?" Spike said at length.  
  
The DJ shook his head. "Whatever, man. It's your poison." He almost shuttered as he put the record on the turntable. The entire population of the club turned on him questioningly as the first opening chords struck up.  
  
There was one girl though, who squealed in shocked delight. A short, wiry, waif of a girl with pale skin and a shock of short, punk blue hair came bounding over to Spike excitedly. "I can't believe you got them to play this!" she shrieked and then grabbed his arm and attempted to lead him to the dance floor.  
  
"Hell no, luv," Spike gently removed his arm from her grasp. "I'll do your dirty work but I won't dance to it."  
  
The girl rolled her eyes. "You guys don't know what you're missing," she stuck her tongue out playfully and bounced to the middle of the floor, twirling around in a tornado of flailing limbs and enthusiasm. Spike joined the rest of his friends on the second level balcony, watching her performance with great amusement. "We keep hoping this is just a phase," a young man with dark hair remarked next to him, indicating to the blue haired woman.  
  
Spike shook his head as very slowly but surely, the rest of the club warmed up to the admittedly catchy guitar hook. It wasn't long before everyone rediscovered a lost classic.  
  
New York, New York, Spike thought to himself. It's a hell of a town. Leaves are brown. And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"What are you thinking, Spike?" the dark haired man from inside the bar asked as he perched himself like a gargoyle on a trash dumpster. There was a cluster of vampires milling around in a group in the narrow back alley behind the bar. Spike knew them all. They were his hunting partners.  
  
"I'm thinking that skinny little thing with the backpack," Spike nodded his head over in a young girls direction. She was obviously trying to hail a cab and from her body language, it seemed she wasn't quite sure where she wanted to go. She was alone and allowed herself to fall behind the mob of people that flushed out of these places come last call. She just looked like someone who wasn't supposed to be there, which meant no one would be looking for her for some time. All of these elements added up to an easy meal.  
  
The dark haired man nodded. "Just what I was thinking. You ready?" He tossed a beer bottled into the dumpster.  
  
Spike nodded, and very quickly and silently approached his prey. She looked as though she was about to flag down a cab from across the street when Spike reached out and silently yanked her into the alley. Normally, the struggle would be over by now. There would be a quick snap of the neck and it would be feeding time. But this girl seemed to know what he had planned before he could act, and she gave him a swift elbow to the gut and wriggled free. He was blocking the way to the street so the only way for her to run was into the alley. This was just fine by him, since he had a small brigade waiting for her. She realized this as they stepped towards her menacingly, and Spike took advantage of her slight pause to yank her again from behind and pin her to the wall. Just as he went in for her neck, she raised what looked for all the world like a stake, but some intrinsic impulse stopped them both. "Spike?" the girl asked.  
  
Spike's eyes got huge as he released the girl and took a step back. His food didn't normally call him by name.  
  
The girl squinted to make sure it was him and then shook her head. "I'm not registering, am I?" she asked.  
  
The entire group was looking at Spike expectantly, and he suddenly felt as if he made it to some high stakes lightning round of This Is Your Life. He stared at her for a few more moments and then a look of intense recognition washed across his face. "Dawn?" 


	2. Return of the Bit

Return of the Bit  
  
  
  
  
  
"Jesus, you're old," was the next thing out of his mouth.  
  
Dawn looked indignant. "Well, I just got carded at the bar so I can't look too old. We do age, you know. Human thing."  
  
"Spike?" one of the cronies, asked. "What the hell?"  
  
"Uh, would you guys mind moving it along? I've got some er…personal business to attend to," he said weakly.  
  
His group looked non-plussed but they reluctantly moseyed out of the alley, giving him backward glances all the way. When they were out of earshot, Spike asked, "What are you bloody doing here?"  
  
"I guess I could ask you the same question. Have you been here the whole time?" Dawn shot back, still a little skeptical that this conversation was even happening at all.  
  
"Listen, if you feel some idiotic obligation to catch up, do you think we can move it off the streets? I just tried to assault you, for Christ sake. The last thing I need right now is a scene," he eyed the rubbernecking public wearily.  
  
"You know a diner or something?" Dawn wasn't sure what a conversation with Spike would accomplish but it was a welcome distraction.  
  
  
  
*************  
  
  
  
"So are you, you know…with the stake and all?" Spike asked, twirling a non- dairy creamer around in his fingers.  
  
"I'm not the Slayer if that's what you mean," Dawn said through a mouthful of omelet. "You have to be born with that. And even if I were, I'd rather pass, thank you. Nah, there's a new girl."  
  
The creamer Spike had been molesting exploded, and he tried to wipe it off his hand without betraying his cool exterior. "Did the ol' ball and chain get herself killed?"  
  
"No she just uh…" Dawn suddenly pretended to be distracted by another customer. "She quit. I guess…I guess in a way I did too." She cleared her throat. "So what's up with you? If I didn't know better, I'd say you had every intention of eating me back there."  
  
"Oh, I did."  
  
"And the chip?"  
  
Spike shrugged. "I don't know really. My guess is that it wore out, but I have no idea when. I just stopped trying for so long that it could've been out for years for all I know."  
  
Dawn smiled. "And what of the do-gooding thing? You gave up on redemption?"  
  
Spike huffed bitterly. "What's the bloody point? No one cared to validate my efforts anyway. Besides, the warm, squishy feeling you get when you do the right thing doesn't replace the empty, nauseous feeling you get when you don't eat for two weeks. I'm a big boy now. Better start acting like one."  
  
Dawn nodded. "I hear that."  
  
She poked absently at her hash browns for a bit, and then on some impulse asked, "Could I stay with you?"  
  
Spike almost squirted coffee through his nose and he slammed the mug down on the table. "Can I stay with you? As in, 'Can I stay in a nest of vampires?' Is that what you mean by 'Can I stay with you?'"  
  
"It's only temporary," Dawn said quickly. "I just got here and I'm low on cash. I just need a roof over my head."  
  
Spike stared at her as if she had 6 heads and then shook his own head in defeat. "If you want, I don't have a problem with it. This isn't Tell Me A Story Sunnydale Spike though, all right? Do you understand that? There's gonna be gruesome shit going on."  
  
Dawn snorted. "After you've seen enough bodies the effect kinda wears off, you know?"  
  
Spike softened a bit in spite of himself. He did know. "Do you have any things?"  
  
"This back pack. That's it."  
  
"All right. You're nuts. But it's your life."  
  
"Finally," Dawn grumbled, and Spike pretended not to catch that. 


	3. You're Gonna Make it After All

You're Gonna Make It After All  
  
  
  
  
  
Spike swung the front door of his apartment open and Dawn was greeted to the sight of a pale and bloated teenager lying open mouthed on the couch. He was obviously dead. "Thanks for waiting up for me, assholes," Spike commented as he walked by the body.  
  
A younger man with dark hair at the kitchen table shrugged. "Davis got the muchies."  
  
"True that," a Phish tour refugee replied.  
  
"Listen, this is Dawn," Spike announced as if he was introducing a new student to a kindergarten class. Dawn was still staring at the body. "She's gonna stay with us for a bit. I'll ask that you not eat her."  
  
The entire apartment struck up a chorus of disapproval. "Oh, bugger off," Spike snapped. "I don't ask for much as a roommate. I don't ask that Nell turn off those wretched Banarama LP's. I don't ask that you squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom. I don't even ask Davis to stop recycling his bong water in the fridge. All I ask is that you not eat this particular person during her stay. Hardly an unreasonable request, considering there's an orphanage across the street."  
  
"Classy, Spike," Dawn grumbled, finally distracted from the body.  
  
Spike smiled. "I knew you'd like that. This is Roman," he pointed to the young man seated at the kitchen table. "That's Nell," he pointed to a blue haired woman with headphones who waved absently. "And this relic is Davis."  
  
"Yo."  
  
Dawn nodded. This was definitely a very big mistake.  
  
"And Davis, can you clean this shit up?" Spike asked, waving at the body. "It's taking up valuable couch space."  
  
A very big mistake.  
  
  
  
Dawn went out the next day in search of a job. Seeing as that she had no experience or college education of any sort, she decided waiting was her best bet. Unfortunately, she didn't have the figure for any of the more upper scale places. "You're built like a Pez dispenser," one particularly blunt manager remarked. Eventually, she got a job in a diner but she knew it would be at least a couple of months before she amassed enough funds to move into her own place. But on a bright note, her cost of living was relatively low. And to be honest, she kinda liked her new roommates.  
  
"Echo and the Bunnymen?" Dawn asked with a bewildered expression as she pawed through Nell's record collection.  
  
"You've never heard of them?" she asked as if Dawn had admitted to never hearing of Jesus or Santa Claus or Tom Cruise.  
  
Dawn shook her head.  
  
"Well child, you must be enlightened," she slapped the record on the player which was met by various protests from the rest of the house. Nell daintily flipped them the bird.  
  
"How old are you, Nell?" Dawn asked, a bit annoyed that a person who looked no older than 17 called her "child."  
  
"512, I think. I loose track. I'm the elder of the house, if you can believe that. I've been in the states forever, though. Stowed away on the Mayflower when I was on the run from an angry mob. Little did I know it was going here."  
  
Dawn smiled. "So, after the hundreds of years you've spent in this country, you have chosen the 1980's as your utmost obsession?"  
  
"Oh, yeah."  
  
  
  
"Why?"  
  
"The 80's to me is the decade that most captures the spirit of America," she said with almost ridiculous sincerity. "I mean, there were all these problems going on. AIDS was breaking out, the economy was slowly trickling down into crap, the Berlin wall fell, the Cold War ended. But nobody noticed, because they were to busy buying…stuff." She tossed a Rubix cube at Dawn. "And that says America to me."  
  
Dawn rolled her eyes. "You have an interesting, if somewhat warped world view."  
  
Nell grinned. "Thanks. At least someone appreciates it," she said as she flicked a rubber band at Spike, who made a face, and then carried on his own conversation with the boys.  
  
"Hey, are you and Spike…you know," Dawn asked what she had been wondering since she got here.  
  
Nell let out a short chuckle. "No. No, no, no, no. No, Spike and I are united by our mutual swearing off the opposite sex. Not excluding a good fuck now and then, of course."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Spike himself seemed a little subdued lately to Dawn, maybe even…mature. He was still a first rate wise ass and he killed with a frightening precision, but he seemed a little quieter, a little more withdrawn.  
  
"Spike's the resident old man of the group," Roman said over a beer at the Deep End, the gang's favorite bar/pool hall and the place where she first ran into Spike. "The weathered veteran. He won't even tell us the shit he's been through but it's obvious it's been heavy. I think this kinda bugs Nell. She's got a couple hundred years or so on him and all she's experienced is a brief encounter with Napoleon and pop music."  
  
"I think he's deep," Davis chimed in, and both Dawn and Roman groaned. "He is. You can see it in his eyes. There's like, an intense sadness in them."  
  
"Davis, you said the same thing about the dancing Coke can we won at Seaside Heights," Roman laughed.  
  
"And I meant it," Davis said in his own defense. "I'll have you know that Coke can wrote half the lyrics on my last demo."  
  
  
  
As for the killing, it would be untrue to say it didn't bother Dawn. The site of Spike back in action was a little intimidating, a little disturbing and a little well…strange. They did have the decency to refrain from bringing the bodies into the house, and they never killed in Dawn's presence. They felt odd about making her a witness. But they talked about it a great deal and Dawn noticed that Spike wasn't entirely back. The old Spike was a sadist. He mixed sex and violence as freely as if it were one and the same. He toyed with his victims. This wasn't the case here. Maybe because the immense population of the city was restraining or maybe because he simply outgrew it, but Spike and his friends attacked with the efficiency of a pack of wolves. There was no art to it anymore. They were just a bunch of junkies looking for a fix. Even their prey selection was cautious. They targeted punk teenagers, bums and runaways, people that wouldn't be immediately missed. Dawn was slightly embarrassed at this revelation, because it meant she must have been rather obvious when they targeted her.  
  
"How's the waitress bit going?" Spike asked one night while the rest of the group was asleep. Even for a vampire, Spike was an insomniac.  
  
Dawn shrugged. "It sucks. But the money's decent. I figure I should have enough to be out of your hair in about a month."  
  
Spike shook his head. "Actually, you've been the least irritating roommate I've had in years. You can stay as long as you like as far as my end's concerned. I don't know how this arrangement has been for you…"  
  
"No, it's actually been almost enjoyable on some strange level. I appreciate you guys, you know, not bringing your business into the house."  
  
Spike nodded, and then punctured a hole in the side of his beer can with his teeth and proceeded to shotgun it. When he had finished, he scrunched his face up in a pensive sort of way and blurted out, "So you never explained to me why you left Sunnydale."  
  
"Urgh. Please don't ask me that," Dawn groaned.  
  
"Hey, you don't have to answer. It's just a little odd for you to be all mysterious. Despite the fact that you fancied yourself a great enigma you never really could keep your mouth shut."  
  
Dawn shot him a look. "It's nothing. But I'm really grateful to you guys for letting me stay like this. I needed it. Not just the roof over my head but this whole…atmosphere. I feel like you guys are the first people in a long while that doesn't expect anything from me. It's very liberating."  
  
  
  
**********  
  
  
  
  
  
Riley Finn wished so much wasn't expected of him. He's been miserable since he rejoined the Initiative but he knew he'd be even more so without it. It was the only place he fit, though he knew that wasn't true. He didn't fit in Sunnydale and he was too much of a coward to try to fit anywhere else. The Initiative was easiest. He sighed as he raised his test tube to the light. He hoped this was the right thing as he hopped out of his car. 


	4. Only the Good Die Twice

Only the Good Die Twice  
  
  
  
  
  
"Where's Roman?" Spike asked as he ambled into the apartment dangerously close to daylight. He had a habit of disappearing by himself for long periods of time. No one ever questioned it, but they sometimes speculated amongst themselves.  
  
"Jack's got a gig," Nell replied, only her eyes visible over her copy of Kerrang. Jack was Roman's buddy since high school and a newly made vampire. Roman himself was pretty new to the vampire scene. He had only been dead for 23 years.  
  
"A gig? Where the hell do they have a gig?"  
  
"At the Deep End," Nell said with a "duh" tone of voice.  
  
Spike huffed. "Jesus. So what do they do for an encore? Bite the head off the bartender?"  
  
"I think they've sort of adopted a don't ask don't tell policy when it comes to our kind, man," Davis observed. "At the rate this town is going we'll wind up being covered under affirmative action."  
  
Spike shook his head in amazement as Roman suddenly burst through the door. "Guys," he said panting fiercely, his pale skin even paler than usual. "Jack's dead."  
  
The entire population snapped to abrupt attention. "What?" was the unanimous response.  
  
"He's dead…I can't explain it. It's like he…he…"  
  
"Was he dusted?" Dawn asked.  
  
"No. Just…just come with me," he grabbed Nell's arm and led her out of the apartment.  
  
Spike and Davis exchanged worried glances. "What is he talking about?" Davis asked, fear permeating through his usually blissed out voice.  
  
Spike shook his head and then snapped his fingers at Dawn. "Come on."  
  
"Me? I don't think it's appropriate if I…"  
  
"If something's killing vampires, you're presence is plenty appropriate," Spike cut her off, earning curious glances from his roommate. "Come on."  
  
  
  
  
  
If the sight of a dead human is unsettling, the sight of a dead vampire is even more so. Vampires were used to flying in the face or mortality. To see one of their own staring glassy eyed into space was the emotional equivalent of being run over by a fleet of Mac trucks. They simply weren't used to this, and the scene Dawn found when she finally found the courage to enter the room was all too familiar. They had seemed to inadvertently circled themselves around the body, each one of them intentionally occupying themselves with something else. Nell was biting her fingernails, Roman was pacing back and forth, and Spike was flicking his Zippo like a mad man. Dawn took a deep breath and knelt besides the body, post mortem panic threatening to set in for what seemed like the umpteenth time in her life. After she inspected it briefly, she announced, "There's no wound of any kind. Did anyone see what happened?"  
  
Roman raised a shaking hand. "Yeah…we just came back from the bar. He walked in and complained that it was cold in here, which didn't make any sense. And then only like a few minutes after that, he just started shaking and passed out. And that was it. Like that," he snapped his fingers to illustrate.  
  
"I honestly have no idea what this would be," Dawn turned to Spike.  
  
"Why would you?" Nell asked. "You a doctor or something?"  
  
Dawn shook her head. "I just have some experience in this sort of thing."  
  
Roman gave Spike a questioning look, which he ignored. "Well, did anyone notice anything odd?" Spike attempted to divert attention.  
  
Suddenly, Davis sprung to his feet. "Jack ate last night!"  
  
Everyone stared blankly at him. "So…"  
  
"So, no one else did. We all bagged a few the night before when he was booking a gig. I helped him take one down but I didn't have any cause I wasn't hungry."  
  
"Whoa," Dawn butt in. "Are you suggesting food poisoning?" This sounded utterly ridiculous to her.  
  
"Well…I don't here anyone else coming up with anything," he said defensively.  
  
"Dawn, could I talk to you for a second?" Spike suddenly asked, but he already had her by the arm and was dragging her outside.  
  
"Spike, what the hell…"  
  
"I think Davis is right."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Think about it," he yanked a cigarette out of his pocket and started puffing furiously. "If there was something in that body that could make a vampire sick, then basically it's conceivable that there could be some sort of a…a vampire vaccine."  
  
"Spike…"  
  
"I'm serious. Maybe it's a coincidence. But maybe it isn't. And who would be the only group on the planet with the resources to come up with something like that?"  
  
Dawn gasped and covered her mouth. "The Initiative? You really think they would so something like that on purpose?"  
  
"Do you even doubt it? I know they're capable. But we can't very well get a bloody autopsy now, can we? This is so typical," he threw his butt on the ground and stomped on it violently. "It's never enough to just fucking kill us, is it? They always have to have some elaborate plan. Think they're flipping James Bond or some shit. Listen, you need to call your sister."  
  
Dawn shook her head. "No way."  
  
"Hey, it's not like these people are regulated by the FDA. They let some ape shit Frankenstein on the loose, God knows what they've put in those people."  
  
"I'm telling you, she won't come. She's retired," Dawn was getting visibly uneasy.  
  
"Retired?" Spike scoffed. "What, did she get a gold watch and Slayer pension? She's not a used car salesman."  
  
"Spike, I can't call her. Drop it."  
  
"Dawn!"  
  
"Spike!"  
  
"What the hell are you two yelling about?" Roman stuck his head out the door. "Do you two know something about this? Who are you really?" he asked, indicating to Dawn.  
  
"I'm no one. I assure you," she said weakly.  
  
Roman's eyes narrowed. "This is some serious fucking shit, Spike. If I find out you knew about this and didn't tell us, I swear to God I'll kill you 6 times before you hit the ground," Roman threatened without much real malice. He knew he was no match for the old man.  
  
"Relax. I'm about as baffled as you are. This does sound like the MO of some chits I've dealt with before but I'm not a bleeding NARC."  
  
"Both of you, shut up," Nell piped up from behind them. "You two can have a pissing contest tomorrow. Right now, just zip up your damn trousers and let's go home," her usual tiny voice was showing its age for the first time since Dawn met her. She stormed off ahead of them in the direction of the house. Davis slunk by them almost apologetically as the two remaining men shook their heads and followed the rest of the group. 


	5. Territory

Territory  
  
  
  
  
  
The next day, Spike and Dawn explained everything. Who the Initiative was, how they know each other, what they did to Spike. Everything. The group was obviously floored.  
  
"And you think they did this?" Roman asked, still in awe of the whole thing. He asked about 95 questions about the chip.  
  
Spike shrugged. "I'd be willing to make a wager. In the meantime, I think we should lay off feeding as long as we can."  
  
"And keep a low profile," Dawn added.  
  
"No. Profiles are to be kept high," Spike corrected her, the old evil mischief showing in his voice. "If those fuckers are in the city, I want to deal with them face to face."  
  
That night, the group held an informal memorial service of sorts for Jack at the Deep End. "His apartment always smelled like mustard," Davis remembered fondly.  
  
Nell then proceeded to give her eulogy, which was actually all the lyrics to The Joshua Tree. Halfway into "Bullet the Blue Sky," Spike noticed a group of young men walk awkwardly into the bar and take a seat at a table across from them. They had the appearance of a group of people who were trying desperately to fit in and knew they weren't. Their eyes darted about the room nervously, and they talked to each other without making eye contact, a sure sign that rather obvious people were trying to be discreet.  
  
So Spike just stared at them. Not in a curious way, but in a very frightening, deliberate way. The kind of staring that gets you noticed. And they did. They tried to keep up their casual charade for a bit but when Spike wouldn't relent, they began to get nervous. Their hands when up now when they spoke to each other, and they gestured to him clumsily with their heads and eating utensils. Finally, Spike saw the words he was looking for pass over their lips. "Hostile 17."  
  
"They're here," he said, his eyes still fixed on the men. Spike's entire table suddenly gasped and spun around to see. They locked eyes with each other, both groups quickly turned back around for a huddle. Everyone that is, except for Spike, who kept right on staring. He found all of this very amusing. He stood up at the table and both groups looked at him as if he had just pulled a gun out of that jacket of his.  
  
"Spike," Dawn whispered harshly. "What are you doing?" She tugged on his jacket.  
  
"Relax. I'm just going to have some friendly banter," he said devilishly, looking very much like his old self. This made Dawn nervous.  
  
"Hey, boys!" Spike waved to the group of men as his own friends looked at him as if he was nuts.  
  
The Initiative's collective eyeballs got wide as saucers and they suddenly got up from their chairs and rushed out the back door. They weren't expecting combat, and they didn't want to start anything in front of all these civilians. "Hmm…seems they don't feel much like chatting," Spike mused. "And there's so much I want to catch up on."  
  
In one dramatic swoop of his coat, Spike followed them out of the door. His roommates exchanged very nervous glances and then went to join him.  
  
"Oh, hey, guys," Spike smiled at the men as he advanced on them very quickly. The soldiers fell back into a fairly strategic attack stance as the rest of Spike's crew filed in behind him. "Remember me? A couple of your buddies and I used to pal around together in the good ol' days," he said casually and then grabbed one of them and pinned him against the wall so fast it took a second for the humans in the mix to even realize what happened. Before any of them could react, Roman, Nell and Davis were upon them, holding their heads back to expose their necks in a hostage like position. "Yeah, they put this nifty chip in my head," Spike continued as he punched the kid in the face.  
  
"Spike," Dawn protested.  
  
"But it seems it wore off," he punched him again, snapping the kids head back in the other direction.  
  
"Isn't that wild?" he punched him one last time.  
  
"Spike!" Dawn screamed this time.  
  
"What the hell are you wankers doing in my town?" Spike screamed at the now bloody soldier.  
  
"You're town?" the kid spat blood back at Spike disdainfully.  
  
"Yeah, Major Glory. My town. Didn't you get the memo?"  
  
"Well, we're taking it back," the young man said with sudden resolve.  
  
"Oh," Spike growled as he got right up in the kid's face, fangs bared menacingly. "I seriously doubt that."  
  
Suddenly, Spike felt something hit him in the back of the head. The distraction was enough for the soldier to wiggle free, but Dawn was quicker and managed to snatch his weapon before he could turn it on Spike.  
  
"Go," she whispered to them desperately. "Just get out of here."  
  
Already having seized their own hostages' weapons, the rest of the vampires followed suit, waving them off to contend with this new development. Spike whirled around to see a girl of about 16 twirling a stake confidently. "You wanna dance?" she asked as if she was staring in a bad Jean-Claude Van Dame movie.  
  
Spike took a step back and eyed her apprehensively. He turned slightly to Dawn. "Don't even tell me…"  
  
"Ryan, put the stake down," Dawn grumbled, covering her face as if she was embarrassed.  
  
"Dawn?" the girl, asked. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Whoa," Roman said, looking as if his head was going to explode. "Who the fuck is this now?!?" The poor kid had to digest an awful lot of information in a short amount of time, and every new revelation seemed to take a toll on his sanity.  
  
"Everyone," Dawn sighed. "This is Ryan. She's the Slayer." 


	6. The New Chick

The New Chick  
  
  
  
  
  
"So they just keel over?" Ryan asked, shoving diner food into her mouth as if she hadn't eaten in about three days. "Splat?"  
  
"Pretty much," Roman shuddered.  
  
"Yeah, the same thing's been happening in Sunnydale. No one knows why, and then I got some tip from this demon dude I know that it's been happening on the East Coast too. So, I figured I'd investigate. Find out who's doing this. You know, so I could send them a fruit basket or something," she laughed slightly, but her audience didn't find it nearly as amusing. "Although," she continued. "The cops may technically call it running away," she performed air quotes to accentuate her point. "So who were those dudes you were rumbling with in the ally?"  
  
So Dawn took a deep breath and explained the Initiative. Who they were, what they've done in the past, and their current theories on what they have planned for the future. Ryan, needless to say, wasn't pleased.  
  
  
  
"Let me get this straight," Ryan growled over her coffee. "This whole time there has been a covert government agency dedicated to exterminating vampires with plenty of funding and the latest technology at their disposal while I HAVE BEEN CHASING THEM AROUND WITH A STICK?!?"  
  
The other diner patrons turned and stared at them. "Are they all this angry?" Roman asked nervously. "I've never met one before."  
  
Spike nodded. "Pretty much."  
  
"Ryan," Dawn tried to reason.  
  
"I don't want to hear it. Can I have one of those?" she snapped her fingers at Spike. He looked at her with a bemused expression.  
  
"One of these?" he waved his pack of cigarettes in the air.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Spike snorted. "A slayer with emphysema. That's rich," he tossed her one from his pack.  
  
"Save me the lecture, Johnny Rotten. I've been smoking these since I was 13. It's not like I had a career as a track star planned out or anything. How was I supposed to know some painfully British dude was gonna waltz in and tell me I'm the Slayer. Cause the other girl quit. Quit. I asked if I could quit, and he said not until I'm 25 or dead. And they prefer dead."  
  
"Excuse me, but would you mind taking this outside?" the diner manager suddenly asked them. "You're making people nervous."  
  
"She's making *you* nervous," Davis remarked.  
  
"Ugh, whatever," Ryan snapped as she got up from the table and stormed outside.  
  
"Can we kill her yet?" Nell asked on their way out, which earned them dubious looks from the already edgy manager.  
  
"Relax. Any one of us can take this bint out with our eyes closed if need be," Spike shrugged.  
  
"Which won't be necessary," Dawn added wearily.  
  
"Besides, in some cases a slayer's a useful ally. Especially considering by the natural order of things she and the Initiative should be best mates. It's lucky for us they don't play well with others."  
  
They filed out of the restaurant to see Ryan pacing maniacally in the alley, puffing on her cigarette with a renewed ferocity. "I don't get this," she said to no one in particular. "These guys are assisting my cause and I have to stop them? On top of everything else?"  
  
"You don't have to do anything, Ryan," Dawn attempted to calm her down. "It's just if they're hurting people, I'd like to know. Plus, I also kinda happen to think that this is cruel and unusual. Even to do to vampires."  
  
Ryan huffed scornfully. "Yeah, we wouldn't want to be politically incorrect," she scowled.  
  
"Listen, sweetheart," Nell piped up. "You're either with us or you're not. If you're not, I say start running."  
  
"Please," Ryan sneered, flipping her stake out of her pocket like a gunslinger at high noon. "I'll give *you* a head start."  
  
"That's it," Nell growled and advanced on her. Spike stepped between them.  
  
"Cool it, ladies. Not in front of the children," Spike smiled at Dawn. She pretended to resent the remark, but it was obvious she was grateful to him.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Ryan snapped, clearly at her wits end. "Are we friends now? Are we giving each other casual orders? Cause I have one for you…" she pointed her stake at him like a mother pointing her finger at a child.  
  
Spike rolled his eyes and quite easily snatched the stake away from her and brandished it at her own neck, game face in full glory. "I'd watch where you point that thing, girlie. I've killed two slayers who shit bigger than you and tangoed with many a hell of a lot tougher than that. Nell would end you. So would any of us here. We're not the mullet-sporting squatters you contend with back in Sunnydale, all right? We're the real deal and you're out of your depth." He shook his face back to normal and removed the stake from her neck. She made a clumsy grab for it but he put in his pocket. "I'll be hanging on to that, thanks. Are we all cleared up now?"  
  
Ryan nodded quietly, the first show of humility Dawn had ever seen the girl demonstrate. It was so easy to forget how powerful Spike really was. "Good. Now that we're all buddies, what would you say our first plan of action should be?"  
  
Dawn shrugged. "Well, since we're pretty certain the Initiative has something to do with it, we can really start investigating," she suggested, easing into the Daphne role in the Scooby Gang after being Scrappy for so long. "But we might as well head in for the night. The sun'll be up soon. You need a place to stay, Ry?"  
  
"She's not staying with us," Roman jumped in.  
  
"Like I would anyway," Ryan snapped. "I don't have a death wish."  
  
"Not yet," Spike muttered under his breath, but Dawn and Nell were the only ones to catch it. Dawn elbowed him as Nell snickered.  
  
"I'll get a hotel room or something."  
  
"All right," Dawn started scribbling something on a napkin. "This is our number. Call me tomorrow, OK?"  
  
"I can't believe you live with these guys."  
  
"Call me," Dawn insisted.  
  
Ryan nodded and then backed out of the alley, refusing to take her eyes off the vampires until the last possible second, narrowly avoiding a street light. When she was gone, Davis started laughing hysterically. "Did you see that chick's face when Spike got all Bad Cop on her? That was priceless, man! Serves her right. She killed my buzz."  
  
"I gotta admit, Spike, for my first encounter with a Slayer she was kinda disappointing," Roman agreed.  
  
"Well, don't get too comfortable. She's brand new. When they're at their peak they'll kill ya before you know what happened."  
  
"And you killed two of them?" Nell asked. "Or was that bullshit?"  
  
"No, I killed them. Come on. We gotta go home," Spike said quickly as he turned towards the apartment. Dawn noticed Nell and Roman having one of those insider conversations with their eyes. Spike really has shrouded himself in mystery since he got here. She wondered why he was suddenly so modest.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"You really should call Buffy," Spike insisted again during he and Dawn's frequent early morning discussions.  
  
"I'm telling you, she won't come."  
  
"If you called her right now and said "Buffy, I'm in trouble," she wouldn't come?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Come off it, Dawn. You're full of shit and you know it. This new girl knows nothin' about nothin'. She won't last two rounds with the Initiative, or my roommates. How long has she been doing this, anyway?"  
  
"Less than a year."  
  
"Less than…Jesus. Buffy has been retired for less than a year and you're saying she's already left it completely behind her?"  
  
"I…can't…call…her," Dawn said as she flung her hands around in mock sign language. "Why can't you get that through your thick skull?"  
  
"Cause I know the Summers women better than that. You show up in New York all by yourself with nothing but 200 bucks and a pack of Jolly Ranchers, Buffy suddenly "retires" which, to my knowledge, is completely unprecedented, you refuse to call her and you've been tight as a freaking clam about why you left in the first place. For fuck's sake, Dawn. Give me some credit. What the hell happened?"  
  
"Giles is dead, OK!?!" Dawn suddenly blurted out, her voice already beginning to crack. "Is that explanation satisfactory enough for you?"  
  
Spike's stomach lurched, not so much with grief or shock, but with the clarity of dozen puzzle pieces coming together. That really did explain a lot. Dawn almost immediately began to cry and he let her, sitting in silence while she attempted to compose herself. He knew it was killing her to cry in front of him, and he dared not make a comment. When it looked as though she pulled herself together, he asked "How?"  
  
"How do you think?" she shot back bitterly, wiping an errant tear from her cheek. "Got hit by a bus? Slipped in the shower? A demon killed him. Buffy was there. She couldn't stop it. I don't even know exactly what happened because she won't talk about it. Not to me, not to anyone. She doesn't talk about anything anymore. She's totally dead inside. It's like…it's like I lost them both. I'm tired of losing people."  
  
Spike sighed. He knew the feeling. "And what about Red? And what's his name?"  
  
"There comes a point when simply too much shit has passed between people for them to sit comfortably in a room together. We tried to keep it together. We really did. We needed each other, was what we kept telling ourselves. But we needed to get away. Being together was too painful. Brought up to many bad memories. So I got the hell out. No one even knows where I am. I don't want them to know."  
  
"You know you're sister is probably having a fit."  
  
"I doubt she's noticed."  
  
Spike shook his head. "Dawn, you're 20 something years old and you still sound like you're 14."  
  
"You're one to talk. You've been a fucking teenager for 200 years."  
  
"Hey - I've been a teenager for 192 years. For the last 8 I've been babysitting my roommates. We all gotta grow up sometime, Lil' Bit. I'm not gonna sit here and say that you haven't been through some harrowing shit, cause you have. But all the running in the world ain't gonna make your mum and Giles any less dead, or your sister any less upset." He grabbed the phone from its cradle and slid it across the table to Dawn.  
  
"You know," Dawn said as her voice started to shake again. "You were the last person I expected a lecture from."  
  
"Luv, I don't care what you do. That was always the beauty of our relationship. You could tell me you were planning on robbing banks for a living and I wouldn't care. You wanna wait tables and hang with my retarded roommates for the rest of your life? Peachy. Who the hell am I to criticize my own lifestyle choice? But I sincerely hope you have enough sense in that gigantic head of yours to realize I am not exactly a role model."  
  
And with that, he left the kitchen and went to his room. Dawn looked at the phone and sighed. Buffy always said the most infuriating thing about Spike was that he was always right. She took a deep breath and reached for the receiver. 


	7. Bringing Out the Dead

Bringing Out the Dead  
  
  
  
  
  
The next night, Dawn rallied her Bizzaro Scoobies and they decided to take a trip down to the hospital. It turned out that Davis was actually quite adept at hot wiring cars and while Dawn, Spike, Nell, Roman and a very reluctant Ryan went to investigate, Davis was sent to locate a possible get away vehicle. No one had a real plan, and with her current company, she figured things could get real bad real quick.  
  
"So what are we going to do?" Ryan asked as they stood outside the entrance of the hospital. "Are we just gonna walk in and poke around?"  
  
"You can't just poke around a hospital, dip shit," Nell snapped. The fasting was taking a toll on the vampire's spirits, and Dawn worried how much longer they could hold out before they did something rash. "If you could, every junkie on the street would raid this place like a kitchen pantry."  
  
"All right," Ryan seethed, restraining herself only out of her fear of Spike. "Then what?"  
  
"Um…I have an idea," Dawn said. "Roman, do you mind if I borrow your pocket knife?"  
  
Roman looked at her quizzically and handed it over. "Thanks," she said casually, and then whirled around and slashed Spike right across the belly.  
  
"OW!!!!!!! SHIT FUCKING COCK SUCKER!!!!!" Spike yelled out every profanity that came to mind as he grabbed his stomach and slumped to the floor.  
  
Dawn handed the knife back to very stunned Roman. "Now we have a patient." She said.  
  
Nell shook her head in amazement. "You are hardcore, girl."  
  
"She's hardcore!?!?! I'm practically cut in two!!!"  
  
Ryan just had her hand over her mouth, not knowing whether to laugh, cry or hurl.  
  
"Yes, and if you took it like a man instead of whining about it then you be hardcore as well," Nell reasoned. Spike looked as though he might stand up and hit the girl but Roman piped up before a fight could break out  
  
"Well, come on," Roman said, shaking his head. "Let's get him off the pavement before we attract the cops. For a dead guy you sure bleed an awful lot."  
  
"Terribly sorry," Spike mumbled as his crew hoisted him off the sidewalk. "Why am I always volunteered for this shit?"  
  
"Because," Dawn explained. "If I had done that to anyone else here they would have turned right around and killed me."  
  
"No doubt," Nell agreed.  
  
Spike sighed. "Well, can you give me some warning next time? And you owe me 22 bucks for this T-shirt."  
  
  
  
They caused quite a scene when they carried a profusely bleeding Spike into the emergency room. The pain and aggravation he felt a few moments earlier seemed to have dissolved into masochistic glee, as he gave in a performance worthy of an Oscar. "Don't let them take the leg!" he would howl. "Tell the boys from the 36th that I've gone home to momma!"  
  
  
  
Ryan might have found the time to be embarrassed if she wasn't handed a gigantic stack of insurance forms. "You'll need to fill these out," a nurse informed her.  
  
She shot a panicked look at Dawn. "Just fill out anything," Dawn whispered. "It's not like he's on record anywhere."  
  
"Insurance fraud?" Ryan shook her head. "Is there any law we haven't broken tonight?"  
  
But she was grateful for the distraction as she made herself comfortable in the waiting room. This slayer shit was really too much. It also seemed terribly unfair. What did she ever do to deserve this? "Previous or Known Health Conditions," Ryan read aloud. She snickered slightly to herself as she scrawled "Erectile Dysfunction" in large letters across the sheet. Well, she supposed there were some perks to the job.  
  
  
  
"Shit," Roman observed through the window of the OR. "Looks like they figured out he's dead."  
  
"Well, I should hope so," Dawn mused. "While they're scratching their heads over that we should split up."  
  
"What are we looking for exactly?" Roman asked.  
  
"Anything that you could use to infect people if you wanted to. Grab blood transfusions, syringes, vaccines….whatever. I know someone who might be able to analyze it for us…hopefully," Dawn said.  
  
Roman and Nell nodded. "Break."  
  
  
  
Nell was wishing she never dyed her hair blue. It made her a little too conspicuous for taste at this point in time. Thank God she was small. She noticed an orderly emerge from a room carrying a bag of blood and she dove behind a catering cart. She nabbed a container of Kozy Shack pudding from one of the trays and slid it across the floor, creating a makeshift doorstop. The orderly didn't notice. When he was gone, she darted out from behind her hiding place and into the room, which was actually a walk in refrigerator. She slammed the door behind her and took in a sharp breath at what she saw. She was almost literally a kid in a candy store. An entire room stocked with neatly labeled bags of fresh blood…she had wondered why she hadn't thought of this before. She grabbed one bag off the shelf and was about to leave when she got a whiff of it. It was too much. She needed blood. She needed it. She tore the top of the bag so fast she barely even realized what she was doing. What if this stuff is tainted? She thought. But what if it wasn't? She sighed and dipped her fingertip on the surface of the liquid. She dotted it on her tongue. Didn't taste strange. It smelled normal. God…she really wanted it. After a bit, instinct kicked in and she found herself gulping at the bag hungrily. She paused after she was finished, terrified of what she had just done. But she felt OK. Nothing strange was going on. She shook her head and hoped for the best as she grabbed another bag and darted out of the room.  
  
  
  
  
  
Spike was about to get his own press release. "I don't understand this," the doctors kept saying. "Not only is he by almost all legal counts dead, but he seems to have incredible regenerative powers."  
  
They started to get more and more excited as the reality of what they had hit them. They were going to be quite famous. They might even win a Nobel Prize for a discovery such as this. Spike was beginning to get a little uneasy. It was fun at first and he did enjoy the attention. But he would have to leave at some point and then what were they going to do? And he hadn't seen one of his friends poke their head through the OR window in some time. No sooner than he had the thought, he saw someone's hand gesturing through the window. One of the lesser nurses opened the door. "This is restricted," she said shortly. "Interns aren't allowed in here at this time."  
  
"I understand, but from what I've been hearing this same sort of thing happened in Holy Name in Cali. I was there. I'm just curious to see if it's the same thing."  
  
"I seriously doubt that," a doctor huffed to the unseen intern. "This is completely unprecedented…"  
  
"Let me guess," the intern cut him off. "No pulse, no heartbeat and incredibly low body temperature yet there is the presence of blood and the patient seems to have some sort of accelerated healing capabilities."  
  
If Spike's heart did register on the EKG, the thing would be spiking off the charts. The doctor seemed to pause for a second, then reluctantly let the intern into the room. And at once, both parties' worst fears were realized. The intern was none other than Riley Finn. They said nothing for a second, just staring at each other in a sort of dull shock , though neither could honestly claim to be surprised by the other's presence. Finally, Spike came to his senses and leapt from the slab, plucking various needles and suction cups from his body as the small arsenal of medical equipment bleeped wildly. He slammed through the swinging doors as he heard at least 3 people cry "After him!"  
  
Spike ran as fast as he could in the direction of the waiting room, hoping to God Davis managed to get a car for them. On his way he crashed into a very guilty looking Nell. "What the hell?" she sputtered.  
  
"Just run!" Spike shouted.  
  
Nell turned and saw a large group of people screaming and rushing towards them. The jig was obviously up. The two of them kept running towards the waiting room and saw Roman and Dawn bending over the Slayerette, who seemed to be filling out some forms. She was about to write that Spike had a problem with frequent nocturnal emissions when Spike grabbed her by the arm. "Must leave now," he shouted mainly at Dawn, who made the mistake of looking up.  
  
She made a choked, surprised sound in her throat when she saw Riley leading the pack, and Riley skidded to a stop. "Dawn?" he asked as the small army of hospital employees crashed into a pile up behind him.  
  
She quite literally froze in place, causing Spike to grab her around the waist and practically carry her out of the building.  
  
Riley panicked. Spike just kidnapped Dawn! Ack! What was it suddenly 1999? Was he in some sort of time warp? What the hell was going on?  
  
He shook his head and started his pursuit again. Meanwhile, Roman had spotted Davis in a station wagon across the parking lot. "Thank God he's good for something," he muttered as they all bolted towards the car. Nell yanked the car door open and Spike practically threw all three ladies in the back seat.  
  
"Davis, out," Roman instructed.  
  
"Why, man? I wanna drive!"  
  
Roman yanked him out of the drivers seat as Spike assumed shot gun. Dejected, Davis scrambled into the already crammed back seat and sailed over the bench into the trunk. It was then that he noticed the large pack of pursuers. "Dammit. I always miss out on the cool shit," he lamented as Roman slammed on the gas. "And I wanted to drive!"  
  
"Davis, we can't have you being distracted by bugs and your own nose again," Roman explained as he peeled out of the parking lot.  
  
Spike checked out the rear view window and noticed Riley leaping into a vehicle of his own.  
  
"Jesus, God, no," Ryan muttered with a shaking voice. "A fucking car chase now? Is that what's about to happen?"  
  
It certainly seemed that way as Riley donuted out of his space and began to zoom after them. "What does he think he's going to do? Who is that guy?" Nell asked.  
  
"I ain't gonna stick around and find out," Roman remarked as he took a turn practically on two wheels.  
  
Riley certainly seemed to be gaining ground. Dawn slunk down in her seat. She could not believe how low her life had sunk in such a short amount of time.  
  
"You gotta turn a lot, man!" Davis suggested from the trunk. "You know, confuse him!"  
  
In a totally unprecedented event, Roman heeded Davis' advice and took a sharp right and then a very illegal left, much to the chagrin of on coming traffic. He yanked the wheel around to make another turn into a less busy street when he slammed point blank into a pedestrian. Both Ryan and Dawn screamed as the body slammed up against the glass and rolled onto the sidewalk next to them.  
  
"Oh, my God," Ryan whispered. "I'm in Hell. I've died somehow and gone to Hell."  
  
Roman slowed down a bit instinctually, and Dawn turned around to inspect what they had done. To her great surprise and delight, the woman groaned and staggered to her feet. "Stop the car!!!!" Dawn shouted, banging on the window.  
  
"Stop? We're in the middle of a car chase, girl!" Nell shrieked as she heard tires screeching a short distance behind them.  
  
Spike cranked around in his seat to see what the hell got Dawn so upset. You know. Besides killing someone. "Well, I'll be damned," he mused. "its Buffy."  
  
"Roman, you gotta pull back," Dawn begged, still banging on the window in an attempt to get Buffy's attention. "We just hit my sister."  
  
Ryan snapped to attention and whipped around. "Wow. I didn't think we were built that tough."  
  
"You'll get tougher," Dawn promised. "Roman, please."  
  
Riley's car screeched around the corner. Spike grinned sadistically. "Go back, mate. You'll want to see this."  
  
All three vampires looked at Spike as if he just grew a second head and then Roman backed up just as Riley's car moved forward. Each screeched to a halt inches from each other and a mere few feet in front of Buffy. Riley spotted her and his stomach practically leapt out of his throat. "Buffy…" he said.  
  
She saw him too and gained an expression on her face that was almost entirely unreadable. It was one of relief, anger, shock, surprise and a good amount of horror. "Buffy!" Dawn shouted, sticking her head out the window.  
  
Her eyes got even wider as she recognized first Dawn, then Ryan and last and most disturbing of all, Spike.  
  
"Buff…I tried to write you," Riley said lamely as he scrambled out of the car. This now grabbed the attention of everyone on the scene as Buffy took a few awkward steps back. This was like 19 of her worst nightmares all rolled into one horrible moment. All she needed now was to make a speech at her high school graduation naked and she'd be set.  
  
"Buffy, get in," Dawn said as police sirens began to scream in the distance.  
  
"Don't listen to her, Buffy," Riley said. "Spike's got her brainwashed."  
  
Spike let out a very rude and loud guffaw at that point. The sirens were getting much louder now. "Buffy, please," Riley repeated.  
  
"Buff, make a decision. We can't hang around," Dawn implored.  
  
"Yeah, seriously lady. We committed about 25 crimes tonight," Roman shouted from the front seat.  
  
Buffy looked from Riley, to Dawn to Riley again. Her choice was to either get into a car with several bloodthirsty killers, or have a conversation with her ex boyfriend from college. She noticed a police car zoom around the bend. She sighed and leapt into the station wagon. "Drive!" she commanded as Roman quite agreeably slammed on the gas.  
  
Riley stared after them with a perplexed expression. It seemed as if he was suddenly in some alternate universe dedicated only to making his life miserable. He raised his hands in the air apologetically as the police car pulled up behind him. It was going to be a long night. 


	8. Walt Disney Was Right

Walt Disney Was Right  
  
  
  
  
  
"Well, Walt Disney was right," Spike said as they pulled into a rest station in New Jersey. "It is a small world after all."  
  
Buffy ignored him. "Dawn, you and I are going to have to have a very, very, very…very long talk."  
  
Spike was a bit taken by how old her voice sounded. He never had really hung around mortals for long periods of time and he now realized why it wasn't a common practice. Watching them get old was depressing.  
  
Nell made a sound like a second grader teasing a classmate for getting in trouble. Dawn stuck her tongue out at her.  
  
Great, she thought. Buffy was gonna tear her a new asshole and it was all Spike's fault. He convinced her to call her. How was she supposed to know she was going to be walking from the subway station at the exact moment they were fleeing authorities in a 1985 station wagon? They parked in front of a TCBY and slowly got out of the car.  
  
"That…was some cool shit," Davis remarked.  
  
"Is this like, business as usual or was tonight fucked up by even slayer standards?" Ryan asked Buffy.  
  
"Well, I only caught the tail end of this particular incident and it was some of the most screwed up stuff I have even seen. I can only imagine what went on before then. Especially since Jackass is involved," she indicated to Spike.  
  
Spike scratched his nose with his middle finger and then lit a cigarette.  
  
"Dawn, what is going on?" Buffy asked. "I haven't had any idea where you were for months and then out of nowhere I get a phone call that you're living with Spike…then there was that whole bit back there. What is this? And I swear to God, I find out you and Spike have been…been…."  
  
"God, no!" Spike screamed at the same time Dawn shrieked in disgust. "Jesus, Slayer. What kind of a sicko do you take me for?"  
  
Buffy shot him a look. "Well, it's not as if she's 14 anymore."  
  
"Well, obviously but still…I mean…bollucks! Why did you even have to get that image in my head? You've been here for less than an hour and already you're giving me nightmares."  
  
"All right!" Dawn stepped in between them. "Last thing I need right now is to ref you two, OK?" Dawn was slightly amazed at the two of them. They haven't spoken in almost a decade and it was like they didn't miss a beat. "We can explain later."  
  
"Yeah, right now we gotta ditch this car," Roman piped up, his head already brimming with questions but deciding to hold off until later. "Or at least switch the plates."  
  
Davis retrieved a toolbox from under the back seat. "Can do," he saluted.  
  
Roman nodded, indicating for him to get busy.  
  
  
  
The rest of the night proved equally strange. After some very odd dinner conversation at the Burger King, where Davis proceeded to point out all of the homoerotic implications that exist in Star Wars, ("Not the new one mind you, that one's practically a Pride Parade. I'm talking the original Holy Trinity") they piled into their stolen vehicle, drove to the Hudson where they pushed the thing into the water, and then took the subway back to their apartment. It was only then that anyone attempted to explain anything.  
  
"They tried to have me killed. Several times," Buffy said matter of factly, referring to the Watcher's council. "They had never called the next Slayer while the old one was still breathing. But I refused to continue. And seeing as I was the first in history to make it till 25," she said as Ryan suddenly got very pale. "They decided to give up. They'll never admit to taking a contract out on my life, but I know they did. I suffered several demon attacks that seemed way too….personal."  
  
Roman whistled. "Jesus, Spike," he said softly. "You run with a tough crowd."  
  
Spike nodded. "This one is by far the toughest."  
  
"Well, what of this blood business?" Nell chimed in anxiously. "Dawn, you said you knew someone who could test it."  
  
Buffy shot her a questioning look. "I was thinking Willow, actually," Dawn said softly. "Do you think she'd help us?"  
  
"I think she would be thrilled to hear from you. And yes. I think she would help you."  
  
"And what about you?" Dawn asked, now speaking in a quasi-whisper.  
  
Buffy sighed. "Dawn, I came here because I was worried sick about you. As for the Initiative…" she nodded at Ryan. "I passed that baton."  
  
"I don't want it," Ryan said. "I didn't ask for it."  
  
"We never do."  
  
"Then don't leave me!"  
  
Buffy sighed and closed her eyes, tears threatening to spill out of them. Ryan rubbed her own dark eyes self-consciously, not wanting to show her soft underbelly to this particular audience. "I would think of all people you would have the most compassion for my situation. I don't have this huge, surrogate family to turn to. I just have my stupid Watcher, who I hate. And who I'm pretty sure hates me. You can't just go out to pasture now. I'm not ready and you're still breathing."  
  
"I had a huge surrogate family," Buffy nearly snapped. "But I lost them. I don't want to be held responsible for you too."  
  
"Why don't we all get some rest?" Roman cut in. Dawn shot him an appreciative look. "Seriously. OK? We all just had one of the most bizarre nights of our lives. Spike was almost made into a Fox reality special, we pushed a car into the Hudson, we hit a woman with said car and then ate dinner with her at Burger King….we need to sleep on this."  
  
"Here, here," Davis agreed.  
  
"And first thing tomorrow we see if this Willow person can check out this blood thing?" Nell asked.  
  
"Yes, yes," Dawn promised. "First thing."  
  
And one by one, the house drifted off to sleep. Everyone of course, except Spike. He had offered Buffy his old room, and after much arguing, she accepted. His room was at least closed off. He didn't need to look at her in his early morning wandering if he didn't want to. He didn't think he could handle it. Even so, he was disturbed from his cup of Earl Gray at about 5 in the afternoon by the last person he wanted to see.  
  
"You're up already?" Buffy asked through a yawn.  
  
"No. I'm sleep walking."  
  
Buffy gave him a "ha-ha" look and apprehensively began to eat a Pop Tart from the box she found in the pantry. "Tea, huh? Still an English boy at heart."  
  
"I suppose." Dammit. She was still beautiful. She had her hair cut short in a very contemporary bob, and she was beginning to get tiny little laugh lines at the corner of her eyes and mouth. Her hair was darker too, and he wondered if she had dyed it that way or stopped dying it.  
  
They sat in very awkward silence for awhile. They had left on horrible terms. Not that their relationship always went swimmingly but their last argument was particularly ugly. He had stupidly confessed he wasn't over her after claiming he was for several months. Both parties threw around hurtful words and some of them cut too deep to be soon forgotten. It was at that moment, during that fight, that Spike decided that staying in that town was a slow bleeding to death for him. He couldn't take it. So he left. Dawn had gone to his crypt one day and he was just gone. No note or anything.  
  
"Was it coincidence that my sister found you?" Buffy asked suddenly.  
  
"As opposed to what? Fate?" he snapped back.  
  
"Well, I actually hadn't even thought of that. What I meant is did either of you know the other one was here?"  
  
"No. In fact, I told her it was a bad idea for her to stay. But she was in a rough patch. And she always behaves like an idiot when she's in a rough patch."  
  
Buffy opened her mouth to shoot back some rude remark but found she didn't have the strength anymore. It was no use fighting someone's nature. He was a vampire. She couldn't change that any more now than she could 8 years ago. She already wasted so much time holding him up to human standards and getting aggravated when he continually fell short. She realized in that very moment how stupid that was. "You know, Spike…"  
  
"Guys," Roman suddenly appeared in the doorway. His voice was strained and he looked as though he might topple over. "It's Nell." 


	9. Bullet the Blue Sky

Bullet the Blue Sky  
  
  
  
  
  
Buffy was suddenly hit with such a strong and nauseating feeling of déjà vu that she had to run out of the room for a second and compose herself. The young girl's body, the empty, cold eyes, the way her night shirt had rolled back to reveal her panties…it hit way too close to home. She slunk down in the corner of the hallway and wrapped herself in a little ball. Those eyes. She buried her head in her arms, trying desperately to get the vision out of her head. She will never forget those eyes as long as she lived and now she knew they wouldn't either. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Dawn standing over her. Buffy let out an embarrassed, nervous giggle and Dawn dropped to the floor and hugged her. "I know," she said.  
  
Roman was an absolute wreck. Nell was his mother, his creator, one of his oldest and best friends. To see her like this, it didn't seem right. "I don't understand," he said, pacing around the room frantically. "How? We haven't fed in days! We made sure of that!"  
  
"Nell found the blood at the hospital," Spike said in a very low voice.  
  
Roman stomped his foot. "God! That is so like her!" he ran his fingers through his hair and sunk on the floor. Davis was just watching this whole scene from the opposite corner of the room, flicking his own lighter and looking very frightened. He felt as if someone yanked his whole world out from under him. His own friend, in his own house while he slept next door. It was too close. It was just too god damn close. "How can they do this?" Roman shouted, and everyone turned to look at him. "They're so arrogant! You don't see cows putting anthrax in their drinking water, do you? It's the fucking food chain! It's life! When we kill them it's for food. It's for our own lives. But this…" he gestured to his friend's staring, bloated face. It made him sick to look at. She wouldn't want to be looked at like this. Centuries ago she drank from another man's vein to avoid ever looking at this. On some wild impulse, he grabbed Ryan's stake from her bag, ran back and drove it through Nell's heart. Immediately, the body disappeared. Roman was left shaking in a pile of dust. He stared at the stake in his own hand and tossed it to the ground. And then he just lost it. He tightened himself up in fetal position and sobbed bitterly.  
  
Very slowly, Ryan had crept over from the doorway. She approached Roman until she was standing right beside him and crouched down. She stared at her own stake on the floor, to Roman and then back at the stake again. She sighed and very carefully and nervously, she placed her hand on his shoulder. He jumped at her touch and she recoiled. But he just stared at her with a rather pathetic expression. "I'm…I'm sorry," Ryan said.  
  
He huffed and wiped his eyes, getting back in a sitting position. "For what, Slayer?" he accentuated "Slayer" with a heavy dose of hostility.  
  
"I'm sorry that…I'm sorry that life is so fucked up," she blurted, rocking back on her own backside. And she was. She was sorry that she was called into this position in life, she was sorry that she ever met these vampires, she was sorry that everything always wound up in this stupid gray area where everyone second guessed themselves and nothing made sense. She was sorry that the fact still remained that these individuals killed people, and would take her own family's life as quickly as the Initiative had taken one of their own. And she was sorry that none of this offered any sort of consolation or easy answer. She was sorry for everyone who was ever forced to feel what they were feeling now and she was sorry for herself, cause she knew her lifestyle indicated she would be in this position too someday.  
  
"Well…" Roman said weakly. "Apology accepted…I think."  
  
Suddenly, Spike stormed out of the room. "Where are you going?" Dawn asked.  
  
"I'm going for a walk."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Willow stumbled out of the shower and tried to frantically wrap a towel around her. Someone always calls when she's in the shower. She even had a bathmat to prove it, as that exact phrase was embroidered across it in blue stitching. Her mother's housewarming gift, and the only help she had ever received from her when she moved from Sunnydale to San Francisco. She hadn't even helped her move in. She made a lunge for the phone and dropped her towel. She struggled to wrap it around her again before she answered, then realized no one could see she was naked and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" she said weakly, as if she had just endured some terrible hardship on the way to the phone.  
  
"Willow?" someone asked.  
  
"Yeah," she managed to get the towel around her again. "Is this Dr. Finchler? Harry told me you might call in regards to the tests we did…"  
  
"No, Wil. It's…it's Dawn."  
  
Willow dropped the phone. Dawn. She felt as though she was receiving a long distance phone call from a ghost. She hadn't heard from her in…in….  
  
"Willow? Hello?"  
  
Oh, right. Phone. Willow dove back on the carpet and picked up the receiver. "Yeah, hi. Dawn. Little Dawn. Little Dawn Summers. Um…how, uh, how are you?"  
  
"Are you all right? You sound more flustered than usual."  
  
"Oh, I'm fine. Just super, really. Are you OK? I mean, its just that I hadn't heard from you in so long I was beginning to wonder if you ever actually existed or if I just dreamed you," she laughed nervously and then realized that she had in fact dreamed most of Dawn's life and then added, "I mean dreamed that I dreamed you. Well, you know what I mean."  
  
Dawn shook her head. "Kinda. Anyway, I called because I actually need a huge favor from you."  
  
"Oh, sure. Anything," Willow sat down on the couch.  
  
"Really?" Dawn asked. She was amazed how well this was going.  
  
"Dawn, of course. You're practically my sister too. I missed you. I was worried about you."  
  
Dawn sighed. "I missed you too, Wil," she said and she meant it. Though she never realized how much she missed her until that very moment.  
  
"Well, what can I do you for?" Willow said in pseudo-business like manner.  
  
"I'm actually in New York right now."  
  
"No kidding."  
  
"Seriously. And there's this problem, sort of. Anyway, I was wondering if we sent you a sample of something…of blood, actually, if you could tell us if it was tampered with in any way? You know. If there's been like, stuff done to it."  
  
"Yeah, no problem. Of blood? Are you all right, Dawn?" Willow asked again, the concern returning to your voice.  
  
"I'm fine. Really. It's more of a favor to a friend than anything else. Loooong story. You wouldn't believe half of it if I told you. But that wouldn't be a problem?"  
  
"Not at all."  
  
"Thank you so much, Wil. I really appreciate it."  
  
"No problem. And Dawn, if you ever, ever, need my help again for any reason…you can always call me. You know that right?"  
  
"Yeah, I know," Dawn said. "I had just forgotten for a while."  
  
Willow smiled. Hearing a familiar voice again was nice. "Ok. Give me your number, and I'll get back to you."  
  
Dawn said her good byes and hung up the phone. "How is she?" Buffy asked.  
  
"She seems all right. Are you sure you didn't want to talk to her?"  
  
Buffy shook her head. "No. But I don't think I'm ready yet. This whole trip has rehashed a lot issues I've avoided dealing with for a long time."  
  
Dawn nodded and then sat next to her on the couch. "What were you thinking?" she asked softly. "During that…during that whole…thing." Dawn shuddered just thinking about it. She wasn't sure how many more funerals she could take, and that last one was certainly one of the worst.  
  
Buffy sighed a shaky sigh and put her arm around her. "It was strange, watching that from the outside. I never imagined that anyone anywhere could understand what I felt when I found mom or when Giles…" she trailed off for a moment. "But there it was. Everything I've had inside me these past years was on their faces, on Spike's face…on the people least likely." She paused and took a deep breath, wiping the water from the corner of her eye. "It just made me realize that everybody hurts a million times better than all the REM songs ever could. It just kinda made me realize that I'm not alone."  
  
Dawn leaned her head on her sister's shoulder. "You never were alone."  
  
Buffy smiled. "I'm sorry that I forgot that." She kissed the top of her sister's head and leaned back on the couch. She was sorry for many things. She had come to New York hoping to repair the relationship with her sister and ran headfirst into the two men in her life she never expected to see again. This trip made her realize how many loose ends she had left to tie up. 


	10. Now We Know

Now We Know  
  
  
  
  
  
Spike had never felt so angry before in his entire life and that was a long time. If he didn't kill something, he honestly thought he might burst. Instead, he turned viciously on a trashcan. He slammed the thing into a brick wall so hard it crunched like a beer can on a frat boy's forehead. Somehow, the trashcan failed to avenge Nell's death. This was too fucking far. The chip in his head caused him unspeakable torment for years of his life, keeping him trapped in perpetual limbo and fucking with his emotions much more deeply than anyone else could ever hope to understand. He had finally gotten over that. He found a new life and new friends and was actually starting to feel content for the first time in years and now…those eyes. Her face was burned into his memory, and it was not the way he wanted to remember her.  
  
He had loved her. It wasn't the same sort of love as Dru or Buffy, but you never really love any two people the same way. She was just bright and energetic and just so happy to be here. He, Buffy and even Angel were constantly fighting their station in life and here was this person who took it as it came. She loved who she was. She loved her work. She loved her roommates. She loved this city. Hell, her passion even extended to lousy pop music. And after 500 years, she didn't even have the dignity of going out on the hunt. If she had been killed in a fight or while after a meal it wouldn't have been so bad. She would have died by the same sword she lived by. But sucking blood out of a Ziploc bag in a hospital freezer….God! Spike kicked the next thing he saw which happened to be an alley cat. The thing shrieked wildly and wrapped itself around his leg. Spike yelped and fell backwards, kicking his leg out and sending the thing sailing into the dumpster.  
  
"Going after the smaller game now, huh Spike?"  
  
Spike leapt to his feet and saw Riley glaring at him. He was wondering how fate could be so sick as to have them coincidentally run into each other twice in this huge city when he looked up and noticed he had wandered to the Deep End. OK. That wasn't too coincidental, then. He would have been searching for them there after the altercation with his army mates. "I am the last person you want to pick a fight with right now," Spike glared.  
  
"Oh, really. So did you and The Goonies figure out what we were doing?"  
  
"Experienced it first hand, thanks."  
  
"So we got one of your own, huh?"  
  
That did it. Spike vamped out and attacked brutally, knocking Riley to the floor in three punches. He immediately placed his foot on his neck as he stood over him. "The only thing that kept me from killing you long ago was her," he growled.  
  
"That and that little chip," Riley choked out.  
  
Spike smirked and then lowered himself until he was inches from his face. "If my head exploded, it would have been worth it. But that's all over now."  
  
"It is."  
  
"So let's go." Spike released his foot from Riley's neck and he immediately jumped to his feet and started swinging. Spike let him connect a few times, knocking him repeatedly in the face. Spike just smiled, his teeth getting bloodier with every hit until the sight was disturbing enough for Riley to pause.  
  
"What are you waiting for?!?"  
  
"I don't want to rush this. Precious and few are the moments we can share," Spike winked and then gave him a roundhouse to the head. Riley retaliated and managed to throw Spike up against the wall. Spike braced against it and pushed both feet in the air, nailing Riley in the gut. Stunned, Riley staggered back and Spike started wailing on him with his knee. He got his wits about him and flipped Spike over his shoulder, pile driving his elbow into his gut. A large crowd began to gather around and no one was brave enough to step between them. Eventually though, Riley zigged when he should have zagged. Spike nailed an unprotected part of his stomach, which stunned him enough for Spike to be able to grab his head. Before Riley even knew what was happening, Spike had sunk his fangs into his neck. All at once he felt that old, exhilarating feeling of being so close to death and being able to do nothing to fight it. But this time, there was no teetering at the edge and climbing back up. This was for real. He was going to fall this time. He suddenly felt very scared as his legs went out from under him and he slumped against the wall. Spike still had him in an awkward embrace. He could faintly hear the shocked cries from the onlookers fading in and out like a wave. He couldn't believe it would be Spike. He thought of Buffy and he felt sick. It couldn't end this way. Not like this. Suddenly, he felt Spike release him. His head slammed against the wall but he was too numb to care. He stared weakly up at Spike, who was grinning a bloody, gruesome grin. Then Spike did something totally unsuspected.  
  
In one quick motion Spike yanked an army knife out of Riley's pocket and slashed his own wrist, barely flinching as he did so. "You want it?" he asked.  
  
Riley tried to turn his head, but not before he caught the scent. It was one of the greatest smells he ever smelled. It was sweet and warm and everything he needed right then. It was his life hanging in the balance. Spike waved his bloodied wrist in front of him like some twisted forbidden fruit. "Think of it, champ. You'd be immortal. You'd be strong. You'd be just what Buffy needs."  
  
Riley closed his eyes. No. He couldn't do that. But at the same time, the threat of never seeing her face after catching a glimpse of it after all these years….he felt his body getting weaker. Maybe if he fed, she wouldn't have to know. Maybe he could say what he needed to say and then wait for daybreak. At least, this was a decision he could take back. He could end himself if he wanted. He would have the strength to do that, he knew he would. Spike had his wrist inches from his nose now. Slowly, as if being led by some unseen force, Riley leaned in to drink, the thick liquid a mere inches from his eager lips…  
  
And Spike yanked his wrist away.  
  
Riley stared at him like a child begging for candy, but Spike held firm. "Now we know," he said in a near whisper. "You would have done it. Think of that, next time you try to fuck with us." He stood up and grabbed Riley's fallen cell phone off the ground and dialed 911.  
  
"Yeah, I'm in front of 2344 Bowery. I gotta heavy bleeder here in the alley behind the Deep End. I'd suggest you hurry."  
  
Spike pressed End and then stared at the phone for a second. Then he dialed his own number. "Tell the Slayer she might want to come down to the bar. Her boy here is in bad shape." He tossed the phone at Riley's feet and strode off through the hordes of people; everyone too terrified to act. He disappeared behind the corner like some sort of dark Desperado. Slowly, the patrons came forward and attempted to stop the bleeding from his neck, no one wanting to discuss what they had just witnessed. 


	11. Pressure Points

Pressure Points  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Did you kill him?" Dawn asked, her eyes wet and her voice furious.  
  
"No," Spike said as he took his jacket off and sat at the kitchen table. "Pressure points."  
  
Dawn raised an eyebrow. "What?"  
  
Spike smirked and then pressed his fingers on her neck.  
  
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!" she said as she staggered into the chair across from him.  
  
"I barely took two pints out of him. He thought he was singin' his swan song, though. Rather funny, actually. Is Buffy at the hospital with him?"  
  
"Yes. You fed off of him?"  
  
Spike didn't say anything for a second.  
  
"You fed off of him?!?"  
  
"Dawn…"  
  
"Tell me you didn't."  
  
"Why are you so hysterical about this?"  
  
"He's probably infected!" she screamed. "Did you swallow his blood?!?" She stood up out of her seat.  
  
Spike looked at her with disbelief. She was actually concerned for his safety. He always knew the Bit had a soft spot for him but he never figured it was anything that resembled actual caring. He smiled that devilish smile of his. "No, luv. I'm a spitter."  
  
A look of huge relief suddenly washed over her face. She ran and threw her arms around him, resting her face on his shoulder. He hesitated for a moment, obviously a little thrown by such an open show of affection, then relented and hugged her back. "I am not going to lose you too," she said more as a threat than anything else. "I refuse."  
  
Spike laughed slightly. This kid was really something else. "Don't worry."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Riley came to and found himself in a hospital bed. This alarmed him and he shot up so fast he felt dizzy. He looked at his arm, which was covered with track marks. Buffy had told the doctors on the scene it was a dog bite and the eyewitnesses were too stunned to argue. That required a good deal of shots. He groaned and lowered himself back down on the pillow as the events of the previous evening came flooding back to him. He felt as if he had just remembered hooking up with his best friend's sister at a party, or something equally humiliating. "You all right?" he heard a familiar voice.  
  
"Buffy," he said softly. "You…you came," he said, sounding more confused than touched.  
  
She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Of course I came."  
  
"Well after that night with Dawn and Spike…"  
  
Buffy shook her head. "That night has the distinction of being one of the most screwed up experiences of my life. Talking about my life, that's quite an honor. But I'm still pissed at you."  
  
"Pissed at me?" Riley pretended to sound insulted but was really slightly panicked. Did she know what he almost did? Did that little punk ass tell her? "Your buddy Spike nearly killed me," he said as a defensive measure.  
  
"My buddy Spike was mostly fucking with your head. He's a real pro at it."  
  
Riley raised an eyebrow. What was she talking about? "So I suppose these two puncture wounds in my neck are a mirage?"  
  
"Spike only took about a pint and a half from you. You didn't even need a transfusion. Would have been plenty ironic, if you did though, wouldn't it?"  
  
Riley closed his eyes and leaned back in his pillow. Terrific. Spike had managed to make an ass out of him yet again. "Buffy, I don't understand you," he said softly, his eyes still closed. "You've always fought the Initiative tooth and nail from the get go. Why? We're on your side. I…I'm on your side. I always have been."  
  
Buffy sighed and leaned her own head against the wall. "I know you are, Riley. I just wish you had seen what I saw tonight. Then maybe you'd understand."  
  
Riley suddenly sat up, panicked again. "What did you see?"  
  
"I saw consequences."  
  
Riley grunted, but was relieved. He didn't know what that meant but it probably wasn't that. Jesus. Keeping embarrasing secrets is exhausting. "What is that supposed to mean? Are you some sort of vampire activist now?"  
  
Buffy narrowed his eyes at him and he immediatley looked down. That wasn't the brightest thing to say. "I don't want to kill anything," she said in a low voice. "My job was to save lives and to do that, I often had to destroy. But it's not the same as you."  
  
"How? How is it different?"  
  
"I don't kill to validate myself," Buffy shot back. Riley fell silent. "When I kill I do it to stop the immediate threat. I don't put V-chips in their heads just to see what they would do. I don't try to create evil armies of the night out of their spare parts. I don't keep them in cages and poke and prod until they're reduced to whimpering rejects. I have more respect for them than that."  
  
Riley made some sort of irratated growling sound. "Respect? For Christ's sake. They kill people."  
  
"I look into their faces each and every night and dare them to take my life. One mistake and any one of them could have ended me. You grow to respect that. If you're smart anyway."  
  
Riley stared at her with a dazed expression. It was obvious he wasn't even remotely on the same page. She wondered if he ever could be. He might be able to eventually accept her position, but never understand it. She figured that was what caused vampires to seek her out. They lived by similar codes, though she never truly admitted it.  
  
"Listen," she said, exasperated. "I'm not asking you to understand. I'm just asking you to get the hell out of this thing. You're Riley fucking Finn. You don't need to meet quotas and objectives and…and…just wipe shit out to feel like you're worth something. And certainly not to impress me. I liked you when I thought you were just a TA with a taste for cheese," Buffy huffed and brushed her hair out of her face. She sat there, waiting for some sort of reaction. A "Hey, you're right, Buffy" or a "Fuck off, Buffy, I hate you." Something. But he just stared at her with this perplexed expression as if she had just spoken to him in Chinese. She knew she might as well have, and that was the problem all along. "You know," she grumbled and Riley winced, cursing himself for not speaking up earlier. "I spent a good chunk of my life beating myself up cause I thought I drove you away. That *I* was too hard. I even thought at one point that I was incapable of love entirely. Now I'm sitting here, how many years later, and I realize…it's you. You shut me out. You run and hide in your quotas and objectives whenever you felt threatened or confused or scared. I wasn't threatened by anything. It was you, Riley. The whole god damned time."  
  
Riley closed his eyes and leaned back down on his pillow. It did hurt him to hear these things, but he knew he needed to. He had heard the same words in his own head for so long, but they were so much easier to ignore then. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he said, and he really didn't know why. He knew some reaction was expected of him but didn't want to admit she was right just yet.  
  
Buffy rubbed her forehead. This conversation was making her head hurt. "You're better than this," she said as she patted his leg affectionatley and left the room.  
  
Riley stared after her for awhile, and the placed his hand gingerly on the gauze taped to his neck.  
  
"Now we know," he said out loud. 


	12. Holy Rollers

Holy Rollers  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Buffy walked into the apartment at about 7 in the morning. The rest of the clan was still up, just sitting dumbly in a circle, staring into space. They had tried getting a dialog going but no one was really in the mood. Only Dawn and Spike looked up when she walked in.  
  
"Buffy…" Spike began apologetically.  
  
Buffy threw her hands up into the air. "Don't. Just…don't worry about it." Spike was staring at her as if she had just proposed marriage or something equally ridiculous. He had obviously been expecting her to hit him or scream or something. Eight years ago, she would have. But tonight she wasn't in the mood. And besides, he did intentionally spare Riley's life. The phone rang and Buffy absently picked it up. "Hello?"  
  
"Hi. May I speak to Dawn please?"  
  
Buffy paused. "Is this Willow?"  
  
Willow jumped. "Buffy?"  
  
"Yeah…" There was a long pause. And then both of them started talking at once. "Oh my Gosh…How the hell are you?…You're in New York with Dawn?…Where are you living now? San Fran, eh?…I spoke to Xander the other day…I haven't really spoken to anyone… Me too…I missed you, you know…"  
  
"Buffy!" Dawn cut off the wild rambling, but she was smiling broadly. "Blood?"  
  
"Oh, yes! Yes. The blood. Did you get the samples OK? I don't usually trust US Mail overnight but it was all I could afford."  
  
"Yeah, I got 'em OK."  
  
"Well, what did you find?"  
  
Willow then went on to explain something that she seemed to have a hard time understanding herself. She had found traces of a demon poison in the blood sample, which she admitted was very clever of the poisoner, since most respectable scientists would never even think to look for that, even the more liberal ones at Berkley, where she currently worked. The particular poison came from a metsana demon. It's very weak in a single dose, but over time it can gradually lower your immune system until a simple cold can knock you on your ass for weeks. There were some written accounts of alleged witches slipping teaspoons of the stuff into their husbands dinner every night as a means of getting at their fortune or what have you. If you didn't know what you were looking for, it would be easy to assume the person died of natural causes. Willow, of course, didn't buy it.  
  
"Witches aren't that patient," she said matter of factly. "I mean, if we were, we wouldn't be witches. We'd just sit around and wait for nature to take care of things like everyone else."  
  
Buffy didn't feel much more enlightened. If the poison was that weak, then why would they administer it in blood transfusions where most people just get a single dose? "Does the poison effect vampires at all?" she asked.  
  
"No," Willow said over a furious chorus of keyboard strokes. She was obviously at her computer. "It shouldn't anyway…why do you ask?"  
  
"Well, the stuff we sent you has been acting like a sort of vampire Raid. Kills vamps dead, as it were."  
  
"Really?" Willow asked. "Hmmm. This is so bizarre. There's really only one thing I can possibly think of that would cause that to happen. I noticed that the poison also seemed to be watered down a bit, which again, was really strange. Even weirder was that it seemed to be spring water, or at least run through the Brita a few times. There were no traces fluoride or lead in there at all. Which was kinda amusing. I mean, you're poisoning people. Why should it matter if the water isn't what it means to be from Maine? But if you said that it's killing vampires, well, then maybe it's Holy water."  
  
"Holy water?" Buffy shrieked. How Exorcist. She wondered if Spike's head would start spinning if she splashed some on him.  
  
"Holy water?" the entire house questioned in unison.  
  
"Yes, Holy water," Willow said, laughing slightly. "Holy water is almost always purified. And although obviously it's not chemically different from H2O, we are dealing with a magical substance. Its water with what's essentially a spell cast on it. Maybe it has some sort of reaction with the poison in vampires. I've never heard of that happening before but let's face it, there's a lot I don't know. If I had a body or something that I could examine I might be able to give you a more conclusive analysis…."  
  
"But the effect would be the same for humans?" Buffy asked.  
  
"I'm pretty sure."  
  
"Shit."  
  
"Buff, what's going on?"  
  
"The Initiative has this stuff. And frankly, I'm afraid they're going to do something rash."  
  
"The Initiative? Yikes. That is definitely ungood. Well…" Willow said with an audible grin. "If they're up to no good, then it's up to you to stop them," she said in her best radio drama voice. It had been a long time since she and her friends had been up to stopping anything.  
  
"It's up to us, Wil. Do you know what the anecdote is?"  
  
"I'm two steps ahead of you," she said in a mock official voice. "This is fun. Being Informo Girl. It's been a while since I donned the proverbial Velma glasses." Tap, tap, tap, tap went the keyboard. "Oh, it's so simple. You can get most of this stuff at a hippie health food store."  
  
Buffy ran to find something to write on and started scribbling the recipe down on the back of some rolling paper. "Got it. Thanks so much, Willow. You have been invaluable. As always."  
  
"No, thank you. This was nice, this little venture down memory lane. Did you miss this stuff?"  
  
Buffy smiled. "You know, now that you mention it….kinda." 


	13. Heroes in a Half Shell

Heroes in a Half Shell  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ryan never really cared much for the creeping unknown, and now she was knee deep in it. Quite literally. "Are you sure you know where you're going?" Ryan asked as she sidestepped to avoid a floating mass of…something.  
  
"Uh, no. You wanna double check me?" Buffy admitted as she handed the map to Ryan. She was never really good at maps, and the fact that this one was written in crayon by a barely literate vampire that tended to squat in the sewers of New York didn't help.  
  
"Let me see…" Davis piped up. "I speak Ira." Ira was the sewer dweller, and one of Davis' ex-Deadhead buddies. For vampires following Jerry, Deadhead took on a much more literal meaning. "We need to hang a left at the next intersection. It should be under a Taco Bell, so keep your nose out for the smell of refried beans."  
  
"Jesus," Dawn coughed, stifling a gag.  
  
"Isn't this slayer business glamorous?" Spike called out. "Just think, Ry. All this will soon be yours."  
  
She rolled her eyes at him. He was like the annoying older brother she never had. Or particularly wanted.  
  
Buffy had gone back to the hospital to interrogate Riley. She was infuriated to know that not only was he unaware that the poison they used hurt humans but he never even thought to ask. She would almost rather have preferred that he knew about it all along. In some way, that would make more sense. She also learned that they were planning on dumping a batch into the reservoir tonight, on Riley's green light. He had seen no adverse side effects from the blood samples he had been planting or on himself as he had taken it, and he knew that it worked. He saw no reason to hold back. Buffy was hoping they could beat them there, because the beer cooler of anecdote they made in the bathtub was not enough to negate an entire reservoir full.  
  
They made a left and heard voices murmuring in the distance. They all slunk up against the wall. "Is it them?" Ryan asked.  
  
Buffy listened. "I think so."  
  
Roman made a sudden move towards them but Dawn grabbed him by his belt loop and yanked him back behind the wall. "You promised me you wouldn't kill them," she hissed.  
  
"I lied."  
  
"Roman, I'm serious. No killing. Maybe some bruising or maiming. Maybe. But no killing. Promise me."  
  
"Maybe just a nibble?"  
  
"Promise!"  
  
"All right, all right," Roman said dejectedly.  
  
"You know, Bit," Spike said as he lit up a cigarette. "Our menu has been seriously limited since you came here. We might as well go Kosher."  
  
Buffy elbowed him hard in the gut and snatched his cigarette away. "Idiot."  
  
Spike just grinned at her. "So that's what's been missing from my life."  
  
She huffed disgustedly and then turned so he couldn't see her smile. It was amazing how easy it was to slip into old patterns. "All right. I say we tail them. This is going to take a certain amount of stealth. Do you guys think you can handle that?" She turned around and saw her entire party was already out of site. She had forgotten whom she was dealing with for a moment. This wasn't Xander and Anya stomping around. These were three skilled vampires, a Slayer and an 8th degree black belt. She grinned and stepped into her own shadow. They were right up ahead.  
  
The group followed them silently until they came to an opening that led to a lake. The roar of the purifier drowned out most of the sound but other than that, there was very little cover. They were going to have to make a move. She watched as they opened up this immense silver box which contained many, many test tubes. She wasn't too late, but she had to act fast. How was she going to divert them without turning this into a suicide mission?  
  
"Hey!" she heard a voice call out from behind her. Spike. "Could you not poison the water please?"  
  
Well, he was always good for a diversion.  
  
The men looked up from what they were doing and closed the box. "Oh yeah? Says who?"  
  
Buffy, reluctantly taking this as her cue, stepped out from the bushes with the rest of the clan. They stood at a stalemate for a moment, neither side really knowing what the other was going to do. "The stuff that you have there…it's poisonous for humans."  
  
The young man shook his head. "It's been tested numerous times…"  
  
"Says who? Your superiors? Let me tell you something. Your superiors lie. I know this first hand."  
  
"But we should drop everything and trust you. You, who hangs around with vampires and almost got Finn killed on numerous occasions."  
  
Buffy was slightly flattered. So they had heard of her. She lives on. "I'm not saying to trust me. I'm saying to accept the possibility that I'm telling the truth. Test it yourselves."  
  
"And I'm asking you to accept the possibility that if you fail to listen to her you will get your ass kicked," Spike said, leaping in front of Buffy. "I'm fucking through playing with you wankers. You just don't learn."  
  
"Yeah, well if you want to stop us…" the young man started.  
  
"Don't say it," Buffy begged him.  
  
"You're going to have to kill us." He said it.  
  
Well, that was it, and rightfully so. Spike charged them and the rest joined in. Buffy just kept trying to avoid their blows and make her way to the poison. She looked across the scuffle and saw Ryan trying to do the same thing. She stumbled towards the box at the same time Ryan did. "Great Slayers think alike," Buffy said.  
  
Ryan smiled and then dove out of the way of an errant gunshot. "Shit," she said.  
  
Roman attacked the shooter with a renewed ferocity. "No killing!" Buffy heard Dawn shriek from somewhere in the crowd. "Only maiming!" The solider she was fighting used the opportunity to kick her square in the head. She stumbled back a couple feet. "And maybe," she said, practically growling. "Some pummeling." She charged the soldier and wailed on him mercilessly, her extensive training taking the man by surprise. You don't grow up with the Slayer without picking up a thing or two. Or 48.  
  
Buffy and Ryan exchanged amused glances and then worked on trying to pry the box open. They both whipped out their stakes and tried to jimmy the locks. Eventually, Buffy stuck the thing underneath the lid and slammed the thing with her fist. The box popped open. Ryan whistled. "Jesus. Will I get that strong?"  
  
"Oh yeah. Stronger. I'm a bit out of shape." They opened the box and saw the rows and rows of test tubes.  
  
"What do we do with them?" Ryan asked. Spike came sailing from seemingly out of nowhere and landed in a cloud of dust and curse words beside them. He jumped back up, seething.  
  
"Don't kill them," Buffy reminded him.  
  
"Oh…I'll come close. I'll come real bloody close," he snarled as he ran back into the action.  
  
"I don't know," Buffy admitted. There was no safe way of disposing of this stuff without the help of professionals. They would have to transport it elsewhere but that would mean either leaving Dawn and the Funky Bunch behind or starting another chase scenario, which she didn't particularly want to do. One stolen car in the Hudson was enough, thank you. Suddenly, a string of constant gunfire interrupted her thoughts. "Oh shit," she said aloud. Please let them have shot Spike. She looked up to see Riley pointing his weapon at the sky.  
  
"Fall back," he said, with more anger in his voice that Buffy had ever really heard.  
  
"But, sir," one protested.  
  
"I said fall the fuck back!"  
  
The soldier immediately obeyed. Dawn gave him one final shove as retribution for the low blow. "You too, Dawn," Riley snapped.  
  
Dawn saluted him.  
  
"They're right. The stuff in those tubes is dangerous. We're talking long term consequences. We have to abort."  
  
"Is this coming from HQ?"  
  
"It's coming from me. We can't allow them to poison New York." God, Riley thought. That sounded so ridiculously obvious when he said it out loud. What an idiot he had been.  
  
"Sarge assured us that…"  
  
"Sarge lied! They've been lying about everything from the beginning. I found this out a long time ago but I was too much of a fucking coward to admit it."  
  
"Here, here!" Spike agreed.  
  
Riley pointed his weapon at him and he shut up. Not even vampires really enjoy being shot. "I'm taking that stuff back with me, where we are going to get rid of it."  
  
"You won't get away with this. The Initiative will have your neck," a soldier pointed out.  
  
"I'm a commanding officer with a decade's worth of seniority. You're jack shit. Whose word do you think they'll take? I have to admit, sabotaging a mission, taking my fellow men hostage, siding with vampires…it does seem pretty hard to swallow. I have a flawless record."  
  
The soldiers knew when they had been beat. "Hey, Buff. Do you mind giving me that box?"  
  
Buffy snapped it shut and brought the box along with the anecdote over to him. "Thank you," she said smiling, and she leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.  
  
"Buffy," Riley whispered. "Not in front of the guys."  
  
"Oh. Right. Sorry, sir," she saluted him.  
  
He pointed the weapon back on his men. "Come with me."  
  
Begrudgingly, they followed Riley into his Jeep and they drove off.  
  
"You're really gonna trust them?" Roman said, disbelieving.  
  
"I trust him," Buffy said. "I always have."  
  
Roman rolled his eyes. "I swear to God. Just cause you sleep with a guy doesn't mean…"  
  
"He's cool," Spike cut Roman off. They all stared at him with a shocked expression. "All Sunnydale men know better than to double cross Buffy Summers. If he doesn't get rid of it, she'll find out and tear his nuts off. He's aware of this."  
  
Buffy smiled at the quasi-compliment.  
  
"Can we go home now?" Davis asked. "I smell like shit and I'm friggin starving." 


	14. Lord Knows I Can't Change

Lord Knows I Can't Change  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
That night they held an official service for Nell. They built a make shift gravestone out of album covers and liner notes. They figured they'd hang it right over the stereo. "She'd probably want her ashes scattered over Madonna's house," Roman mused. "But I don't know where she lives."  
  
That night, they received another phone call from Willow. Spike answered, and the two of them screwed with each other for a bit. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm afraid we ate Buffy this morning. If you like, I can hold the receiver next to my belly and you can shout stuff."  
  
"Gimme the phone," Buffy snatched it from him.  
  
"You're at Spike's?" Willow asked, obviously amused.  
  
"Yeah…it's a very long story."  
  
Willow laughed. "Sounds like a doozy. So how was thwarting evil?"  
  
"Not bad," Buffy shrugged. "I can't say I'm eager to jump back into the business though. I was shot at."  
  
"Hmm. That does seem to be one of the cons. I'm glad I could help, just the same. Listen, I called because I was looking through an old box of shit I found in my closet and I found something I think you and Dawn would want to hear. I would rather not do this over the phone but I didn't think I could wait until I saw you again."  
  
Buffy suddenly became worried. "What is it, Wil?"  
  
"Oh it's nothing bad. I just found a cassette tape. It's marked "Private. For the Love of God Do Not Play."  
  
Buffy laughed a bit in disbelief. "Oh my God. Is that one of Gile's demo's?"  
  
"That's what I'm thinking. I haven't played it yet. I wanted to wait for you."  
  
Buffy felt the threat of tears rising very rapidly in her throat. "I'll uh…put you on speaker. Hey, Dawn! Come here!"  
  
Dawn walked over to the phone as the rest of the house looked on in interest. "Willow has something for us."  
  
There were the clicking sounds of Willow messing with the tape deck, and after a few minutes of idle feedback, Giles' guitar came strumming through the receiver. Dawn put her hand over her mouth and sat down next to Buffy. They were OK, until his voice, fluid and clear, came drifting across space.  
  
~ And if I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me? ~  
  
"Oh my God," Buffy said, laughing as she rubbed a tear from her face. "Lynard Skynard? I'm aghast."  
  
"Shhh…" Willow shushed her, and it was apparent she had started to cry as well.  
  
Dawn scooted over into Buffy's lap and they started rocking in time to the music. Spike, Roman and Davis looked at each other. Though Spike was really the only one who understood what was going on, it was easy to see this was very significant somehow.  
  
"Cause I'm as free as a bird now," Roman suddenly sang along under his breath. Spike and Davis sparked up their lighters and swayed them hypnotically to the rhythm. "And a bird you cannot change."  
  
Roman tried taking the next verse a little louder until Buffy and Dawn noticed. They just smiled at him, so he grinned and belted out the next line at the top of his lungs. "Bye, bye, it's been sweet love. Though this feeling I can't change," The group all sang along rather tunelessly into the night sky, no one particularly on key and no one really knowing all the words. Music is like that. Even if on the surface the song has really no obvious relevance, it somehow manages to give meaning to random acts. Nell wouldn't listen to this song in a million years but somehow the lyrics seemed to fit for them at that second, in that moment. They would always hear this song and think of their fallen friends, of this place in time, and it would help. And even though Nell might have rather slapped on some Depeche Mode, they all knew she would appreciate this little tribute.  
  
~ Please don't take it so badly. Lord, knows that I must play. ~  
  
The rocking section struck up and Dawn started drumming on the kitchen table. As the climax of the song built, so did the general spirits of everyone in the room. It wasn't long before Davis was doing the Phish tour shuffle, Roman and Ryan were doing air guitar around the room and Spike and the Summers girls did their best headbang. "And a bird you cannot change!" they shouted, even when Giles didn't. There was a crashing sound through the receiver and then silence, followed by Willow laughing. "Sorry guys. I knocked over the phone. I was spinning."  
  
"You were spinning?"  
  
"Yeah. I dunno. This just seems like a spinning kinda song." She cranked the volume back up and shouted "Lord, knows I can't change!" and the varying volume of her voice indicated she did not quit spinning.  
  
  
  
The rest of the tape continued, and they all sat at the speakerphone like some new fangled campfire as Giles continued on. He screwed up a verse in White Room. He was off key during Little Wing. But he sang a very pleasant rendition of Like a Rolling Stone. Eventually, the tape ended with him trying to unplug the amp and cursing mildly. "Well, that's it," his voice said, and the tape stopped rolling. They all sat in silence for a few moments.  
  
"I gotta go," Willow said, her voice breaking the mood. "My phone bill is going to be insane."  
  
"Wil…thank you so much," Buffy said.  
  
"You're very welcome. Call me when you get back, OK?"  
  
"I will," Buffy promised. And for the first time, she meant it.  
  
"Bye!" Everyone shouted into the speaker. Willow hung up.  
  
"I'm beat," Roman said softly. "I think I'm gonna crash."  
  
Everyone murmured variations of the same and slowly staked out their designated sleeping areas in the house. Eventually, only Spike and Buffy were left. They said nothing for awhile. They just sat next to each other on the couch, both of them nursing bottles of New Castle and staring into space. Suddenly Buffy spoke, and the sound of her voice was startling in the silent room. "Sometimes I worry that I've never really had a life," she mused. "That I'm only as interesting as the various tragedies that have befallen me."  
  
"Well, I think that's true of all of us," Spike shrugged.  
  
Buffy seemed to consider that for a bit. "I suppose. But I honestly can't think of a time where I haven't been getting over something or another. I almost feel like I don't know who I am when I'm not grieving. When I don't have my game face on."  
  
"If it's any consolation," Spike said. "It wasn't your game face that intrigued me. Your game face is actually very scary, and you have this vein that pops out on the side of your neck. Very unattractive."  
  
Buffy just stared at him for a minute. "I think your definition of "consolation" is a little off the beaten trail." She said nothing else for awhile, just staring at the wall and sucking on her beer absently. "Spike," Buffy started again timidly. "Why didn't you kill Riley?"  
  
"That's been bothering you, hasn't it?" Spike replied smugly.  
  
"Well…yeah. I mean I am grateful to you. Extremely grateful. Grateful actually doesn't cover it."  
  
"Got the point, Slayer."  
  
"Right. It's just…I don't know how to say this…"  
  
"You're worried that I spared him out of my still burning but misguided passion for you, which you will have to squelch immediately, lest we rehash any ugly scenes."  
  
Buffy stared at him with an amused expression. The two of them seemed to share this psychic link she would never entirely understand. She knew what he was thinking a lot more than she was ever willing to admit. She just liked making him say it out loud. "Um…yeah. Bingo, actually."  
  
Spike chuckled. "Letting Skippy go had little to do with you."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"I let that idiot live for the same reasons you let me live all these years, and for the same reason you would have opposed mass vampire genocide, poison or no poison." Spike figured he didn't have to elaborate but Buffy's curious stare told him otherwise.  
  
"I didn't kill him, Slayer," he said with observable exasperation. "Because, like you, I live my life according to my own brand of ethics. My rules may not make sense to anyone else, or even apply to anyone else. But they're mine."  
  
Buffy nodded, completely understanding what he meant. Again, she knew that was the real reason. She just always found joy in dragging it out of him, just as he enjoyed explaining her every motive better than she ever could herself. She could never satisfactorily explain to anyone why she let Spike live. Killing him was just wrong. She understood why it was, and that was all that mattered. "But aside from all that, do you think it might have had something to do with your never ending love for me?" she asked just to satisfy her own curiosity. She knew that question was a great way to ruin an otherwise civil moment, but their relationship had always followed a self-destructive path.  
  
Spike rolled his eyes, not wanting to indulge her further. "What do you think?"  
  
"I don't think you ever loved me. I think you were just desperately trying to come up with a name for what we felt…and I guess still feel for one another."  
  
Spike's mouth turned up into that sly, Billy Idol smirk of his. "And what is it, pray tell, that we feel?"  
  
Buffy leaned back into the couch cushion and locked eyes with him for the first time. "They don't have a word for what we are."  
  
His smirk slowly dissolved into a genuine smile, the first real smile she had probably ever seen on his face. "It's good to see you again, Buffy," he said as he raised his beer bottle in a toast.  
  
Buffy clinked it agreeably. "Likewise, William."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The next evening, Buffy watched with nostalgia as Spike attempted to give Ryan some pointers. "You're telegraphing," he told her.  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"It means I can see your kicks coming from a mile away."  
  
"Oh," Ryan said dejectedly. She then attempted to kick him unexpectedly in the gut, but he caught her leg and she lost balance and hit the floor. "Telegraphing?" she said meekly.  
  
Spike yanked her back on her feet. "Well, she can be taught."  
  
  
  
Buffy thought of Spike's "lesson" with her in the alley, where he had told her what it meant to have a death wish. She never admitted it and would sooner die, but she would never forget that lesson as long as she lived. She felt it gave her an edge, a window to understanding something no other slayer was brave enough to talk about. She felt she learned a lot of stuff you can't find in books from the likes of people like Spike. And Glory. And all the others she ever danced with. Maybe it was selfish to keep that sort of information to herself. And Spike was right. Ryan can be taught. She had a lot of potential. Her reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door.  
  
"Buffy," Roman said hoarsely. "It's for you." He then slammed the door shut again and stormed over to the kitchen table.  
  
She got up and apprehensively opened the door. "Hi, Buff," Riley said sheepishly. She stepped out of the apartment and closed the door.  
  
"I don't know what she sees in him," Spike mused as he joined Roman at the table.  
  
"I think it's a maternal thing," Dawn guessed. "She feels the need to save his sorry ass."  
  
"Umph," Spike snorted. "Good luck."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I quit," Riley declared. "And I filed a report with the bureau. I don't know how effective it will be, but I don't think I have the strength right now to venture off on some Mulder-esque crusade."  
  
Buffy nodded. "I'm glad you quit. Now did you quit because you wanted to or because you thought it would bring us back together?"  
  
"Because I wanted to," Riley said quickly. "If we were to get back together, it would be a fringe benefit," he said smiling. He leaned in and they kissed softly for a few minutes. Buffy heard some rude gagging noises coming from the apartment behind her and for a second considered kicking it up a notch to spite them but then thought better of it.  
  
"Riley," she said, pulling back.  
  
"But that doesn't look like that's gonna happen," Riley said, sulkily.  
  
"I still love you."  
  
Riley perked up. He wasn't expecting that.  
  
"But," she said firmly, and his smile fell. "Love was never the problem. We're in very different places right now. Maybe some day we'll catch up. But not today."  
  
Riley nodded. He knew she was right. "Well, here's hoping." He hugged her. "You meant that figuratively, right? Like I'm not going to wind up hitting you with my car on a street corner in Boston or something, am I?"  
  
Buffy laughed. "I hope not. Once was enough, thanks." 


	15. Fin

Epilogue  
  
  
  
  
  
Two days later, Ryan and the Summer's woman were all packed and ready to go. Ryan said her good-byes, which was actually harder than she thought. You become close to people you steal cars, commit fraud and witness death with. "Don't think we'll go easy on you just cause we know you," Roman said as he shook her hand.  
  
Ryan grinned. "Likewise. See ya' Davis. I hope you figure out what color your aura is."  
  
Davis slapped her five. "Peace."  
  
Buffy said her polite good-byes to the rest of the people in the house, and then paused at Spike.  
  
"Slayer," he said officially.  
  
"Hostile 17."  
  
He smiled and shook her hand. "You know where I live now, so I'll be around, all right? For free, even."  
  
She nodded and then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "That was for being the best possible blood sucking killer you can be. Don't think it went unappreciated. Come on, Dawn," she waved at her sister. "We're gonna miss our flight."  
  
"I'll be right out," she said, and Buffy and Ryan left the building. As soon as the door closed behind them, Dawn ran and gave Roman a huge hug.  
  
"Thank you so much for not eating me," she said.  
  
Roman laughed. "No problem. You're a trip to be around, Dawn. The pleasure was mine. Don't get into too much trouble."  
  
Dawn nodded and then went to hug Davis who was knocked slightly off balance. "Oh, hey," Davis suddenly perked up. "I almost forgot." He rooted around one of the giant pockets in his cargo pants and produced first a spool of kite string, a fortune cookie and a driedel before fishing out a tape. "The singing Coke can and I cut another demo. The first song is dedicated to you. Its called "Convenient Bite Size." But don't think you'll see a dime if it becomes a big hit." Dawn just looked at Davis with a bewildered expression.  
  
"Thank you. Coming from you…that means a lot."  
  
Then she turned and stood in front of Spike for a moment. "You sure you want to go back?" he asked her.  
  
"Come with me," she said asked just as impulsively as she had asked to stay with him months ago.  
  
Spike just gave her a look. "You're kidding, right?"  
  
Dawn sighed and then hugged him. "I'm gonna miss you."  
  
"Hey, I'm still here. Whenever you need someone to bitch at incessantly for hours and hours…" he said in a mock-exasperated tone of voice. Dawn slugged him in the shoulder.  
  
"Look after your sister, OK?" Spike said. "You're a tough kid. She needs you."  
  
Dawn nodded. "I'll um…see you again sometime." Dawn sighed and picked up her bags. She turned and caught a glimpse of Nell's shrine. "Bye, Nell," she said. "May you come back in your next life as The Edge's guitar pick." She smiled and then went to leave the apartment.  
  
"Hey, Bit?"  
  
Dawn paused without turning around.  
  
"You just made it out of New York," Spike said. "If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere."  
  
Dawn smiled and then ran to catch up with her sister.  
  
"My Watcher's gonna to kill me," Ryan was lamenting on the tram ride over to their terminal. "I haven't even called since I got here."  
  
"Are you that miserable with him?" Buffy asked.  
  
Ryan sighed. "I've seen pit bulls with more patience than him. He just barks shit out of his books and expects me to remember it."  
  
Buffy nodded. She had really lucked out when it came to Watchers. She might have been dead a long time ago if it hadn't been for Giles. She wished he could say the same of her. But sadly, you can't save everyone. Well, she thought as she looked at the young girl sitting next to her. She could still try.  
  
"Ryan…I've been doing a lot of thinking. If I could get it approved, do you think you would like to have me as your Watcher?"  
  
Ryan stared at her with wide eyes. "Are you serious?"  
  
"Yeah," Dawn said with an equally shocked expression. "Are you serious?"  
  
Buffy nodded. "Yeah, actually. I'm quite serious. The Council will give me shit about it but they've always been more than a little afraid of me. I think I can get it approved."  
  
"You really mean it…you would be my Watcher? Forever?"  
  
"It would be a sin and an insult to those I've loved if I kept all I've learned to myself. And I think you have a lot you can teach me. So…how about it?" Buffy's question was answered by Ryan flinging her arms around her.  
  
"Thank you," she said.  
  
Dawn smiled. Sheesh. After all that. She looked out the window, Spike's last words to her ringing in her ears.  
  
"You made it out of New York. If you can make it here you can make it anywhere."  
  
Suddenly, life seemed so full of possibility. The claustrophobia she once felt in Sunnydale was gone completely. A few months ago she felt as if her whole world was crumbling and now she felt as if it was finally opened to her. Screw this Nibblet stuff. She was the key to the Universe, sister to a Slayer, confidant to vampires, survivor of several would be Armageddons, and free of the strings that held her sister in place for so long.  
  
The Nibblet was officially dead.  
  
Long live Dawn Summers. 


End file.
